


Face The Music

by Oblivion_Wanderer



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-Episode: e049 Old Oak Doors, spoilers for episode 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oblivion_Wanderer/pseuds/Oblivion_Wanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil was sure of two things.</p><p>One, he was being controlled by some mysterious force, forcing him to be a hero. Two, Dana was the one who had bought lot #37... Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Face The Music

Cecil was sure of two things.

One, he was being controlled by some mysterious force, forcing him to be a hero. Two, Dana was the one who had bought lot #37... Maybe.

Oh, how he thought he knew Dana. He still cared about Dana, she was one of the very few survi- successful interns he's had in his many years as the voice of Night Vale, but if she really had bought lot #37 and was controlling him... He didn't know what to think about Dana right now.

All signs pointed to her, but maybe he just didn't want to believe it yet. What would she have wanted with lot #37 anyway? What was there in it that might have been of any value? Why did she do it?

Suddenly his phone buzzed and Cecil absently looked over at it.

Oh, Carlos was calling; perfectly, imperfect Carlos.

The radio host sniffled and smiled a little. Carlos would know what to do. Talking to Carlos always made him feel better.

“Hello?” Cecil quietly answered.

“Hey, Cecil.” Carlos replied in that oh-so-lovely voice of his.

“Hey, it's, um, good to hear from you.”

“...Is something wrong?”

Cecil squinted at the phone. Was it really that obvious? “Uh...”

“Did station management not allow you to take some time off to come visit?”

Well, he still hadn't gotten a response on the requested vacation time yet, and he hadn't found his desk on fire yet ether, like the last time he filed to take a personal day because he had a cold. “I only assume they got the request. I haven't gotten a reply back. Did... Did you find an old oak door?”

“No, I haven't.” He said a bit sadly, but exasperated. Cecil always wanted to ask regardless, just in case. “I'm still working on a way to get you here. I'm so excited to see you again!”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Okay, now will you tell me what's wrong?” Carlos asked again. “You sound a little unhappy.”

Cecil sighed. He'd already talked about his lapse in memory before during the antiques incident, but he hadn't mentioned this realization he'd come to about Dana. Maybe talking it out with Carlos would help.

“It's about Dana.” Cecil answered solemnly.

“Did something happen to her?”

“No, she's fine.” He paused, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Um, you remember last month when I told you that I apparently saved Dana from the antiques, but I have no memory of it?”

“Yes.”

“Um, remember about the auction last year? Lot #37 that was labeled 'Cecil Palmer'?”

“Cecil, love, what are you getting at?”

He hesitated. Carlos would know what to do, right? “I think whoever bought lot #37 is somehow using it to control me and has been using me to save Dana these past two times, forcing me to be a hero. I think it was Dana who bought lot #37. And before you ask, no it's not the Sheriff’s Secret Police or the Vague Yet Menacing Government Agency.... Or the Faceless Old Woman- she boiled the bedsheets on the stove when I asked, so that's probably a no.”

The other end of the line was quiet, and Cecil was afraid the line had cut out. A moment later he heard a quiet humming noise of thought, and his shoulders slumped in relief. The scientist was taking a moment to think; he was, after all, a man of science.

“Have you tried talking to her?” Carlos asked, finally.

“No. I don't know if I should...”

“If she really did buy lot #37, then why would she use it to control you?”

“That's what I want to know!” Cecil exclaimed. “Apparently this time I saved her from a sand golem and rabbits, and then Hiram and The Faceless Old Woman. I'm- look... I never asked for this. I don't want to be a hero.” His voice quieted, dropping into a sad mumble. “I'm a journalist, the voice of Night Vale, not a hero. Why can't I just continue to be a journalist? Why can't I remember doing these things?”

“Shh, Cecil, darling.” Carlos hushed form the other end. “You're an amazing journalist. I'm not sure why Dana wishes to control you, but it'll be okay, I promise.”

“Really...?” His voice perked up a little. “Oh Carlos I miss you.”

“I miss you too, but I'll see you very soon. I love you.”

“I know, I love you too. I just wish you could be here sooner.”

“Mm, same here. But don't worry, a scientist is always fine.” He laughed a little. “How about you tell me about your day, minus the being manipulated into being a hero and saving Dana.”

Cecil nodded, knowing Carlos couldn't see him. “Alright. It all started out with a sand golem....”

 

* * *

 

An hour or so before his show began, Carlos' words from last night about Dana came back to him. Maybe he should talk to her, ask her if it was really her who was in possession of lot #37 and why she was forcing Cecil into this unwanted role as hero.

So the radio host took a little stroll over to City Hall, making sure not to look at or think about the Dog Park as he passed it by.

When he got to City Hall, he caught sight of a man lingering outside. Said man was carrying a leather briefcase and wearing a tan jacket.

“Um, hello there!” Cecil called to the man. He seemed familiar, but Cecil couldn't place it. “You wouldn't happen to know if Dan- Mayor Cardinal is around, would you?”

The Man In The Tan Jacket looked at him briefly and nodded, before silently heading inside.

“H-Hey, wait!” He ran after the man and fell in stride beside him. “Is it just me, or have I seen you somewhere before? Maybe we've met somewhere?”

The other said nothing, and they quietly walked on.

They soon arrived at the front door of Mayor Cardinal, Dana. Cecil stood there quietly, as if in a trance, and the Man In The Tan Jacket took it as his cue to leave. Cecil looked over next to him after a moment and opened his mouth to speak. However, he found there was no one standing next to him.

Funny, he thought there had been someone there a moment before, but even so, he couldn't remember who had been standing next to him.

Cecil shrugged it off and knocked on the door.

“Yes?” Came the voice of his friend.

“Um, Hi, Dana. It's Cecil.”

It was quiet again before the door opened, revealing the Mayor. “Shouldn't you be getting ready for your show?”

“I've got time.” He replied dismissively. “I thought I'd stop by, you know, to chat and such. Are you busy?”

“Not at the moment... Come in.”

The radio host smiled, though fake, and walked in. He'd never been in the Mayor's office, and... well, it was just about as expected. A desk with paperwork, nice windows, pictures of family, a poster that said 'All hail the mighty Glow Cloud'.

“So... no recent plots to overthrow your rule as Mayor of Night Vale?” Cecil asked, awkwardly.

“No, but I have the feeling Hiram and The Faceless Old Woman may try again.” Dana sat down in the chair at her desk. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”

“Ah, right. So you know back when the antiques got loose... Did you know it was me who saved you?”

“I...” She sat forward a little. “No, I didn't know. I didn't see who it had been who kept the antiques away. I thought you said on your show it was Hector- of course before he transformed into an antique.”

Oh. She hadn't known. Maybe that meant it wasn't her after all- no. That still didn't explain any of the other times, where she had expressed thanks for him for saving her. That's what made Cecil think it was her in the first place.

“But you knew it was me with the sand golem and when Hiram and The Faceless Old Woman went after you.” He countered.

“Cecil, I'm not sure what you're getting at.”

“Well, I'm not sure why someone is manipulating me, controlling me, in order to rescue you from danger.”

Dana looked at him skeptically. “You think someone is controlling you?”

“By best estimate, I've come to the conclusion that whoever bought lot #37 in the auction is using it to control me, and I might know who that is.” He gave Dana a serious look.

“You think it's me?” She answered with almost a disbelieving laugh.

“I'm not sure who else it could be, and all three times it's been you I've gotten out of trouble, with no memory of doing so. Doesn't it seem like too much of a coincidence? Dana, I do care about you, you're my friend, but why would you want to force me into being a hero?”

The Mayor didn't answer him for several seconds, the silence worrying Cecil that he had been right all along. What if he'd uncovered some sort of big secret and she ordered to have him re-educated? Ugh, those were always a pain and he was really not in the mood to put up with another one of those.

Finally, she sighed and bowed her head a little. “I don't know what to tell you. I'm sorry you are being manipulated as such. I'm sure you'll find out who is doing this.”

“No, what I'm asking is-”

“But thank you for saving me all those times anyway, despite the loss of memory and this being against your will.”

“Dana, please. Just tell me if it was you or not. After the 'Briny Depths' things and this loss of will, I'm not sure what to believe.”

“Cecil, it'll be okay.” She gave him a smile, but something about it seemed off. Maybe it was because he didn't know if he could believe her or not. “Tell you what- I'll look into this and see what I can find out. Besides, how could I have bidded on it? I had long since passed into the Dog Park by then.”

Cecil sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere with this, and she did have a good point. She had been trapped in the Dog Park at the time. “Alright. Well, I should go then. Gotta go set up for the show.”

He briefly held up his hand in a goodbye and turned to leave.

“Cecil,” Dana called last minute. Cecil stopped and looked over his shoulder. “I'm sorry.”

He chuckled. “Don't worry, it's okay. I'll catch you later. 

 

* * *

 

After he hopped down the last step out front of City Hall, hands in his pockets, he saw a man in a tan jacket reading a news paper. Cecil felt like he had seen him somewhere before. The radio host took a look at his watch and then walked over to the man, tapping his shoulder.

“Hello there.” He greeted. “Um, I was wondering- Well, I have to get to work and set up for the show and the radio station is across town. Would you mind giving me a ride over?”

The man nodded silently.

  

* * *

 

Okay, that was weird. He usually walked to work, but did he catch a ride from someone this time? Ah, oh well.

Cecil ran the usual checks on the radio equipment; no problems, no desk on fire (he was still waiting on the reply about time off from station management. He quickly said hello to Khoshekh, and made sure the mirror in the bathroom was covered. After making some coffee, he sat down in front of the welcoming equipment and waited for the time he could begin his show.

At least Carlos' advice had been useful, though it didn't help him get any closer to figuring out who was using him to play hero. Dana might not be the culprit after all. She had been in the Dog Park, and then the desert otherworld, for quite some time. But still, who was doing this to him?

He had to find out, but Dana would let him know what she found. He still wasn't sure if he could trust those words, but maybe for now it was best to go along with it.

And now... it was time for the show.

Cecil smiled, and leaned close to the mic, sending his greeting to all the listeners of their little town.

“We all have skeletons in the closet... they're watching you through the keyhole and planning their revenge. Welcome to Night Vale.”

 


End file.
